


The first Daenerys

by dulce_invierno



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulce_invierno/pseuds/dulce_invierno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daughter of Aegon IV and Naerys Targaryen. Granddaughter, niece, aunt, daughter and sister of kings, but never a queen herself. Princess for life, she loved a rebel and he said to have loved her in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All belongs to G. R. Martin.
> 
> Information obtained from A Wiki of Ice and Fire. Takes place before, during and shortly after the Blackfyre rebellion. I have left as much as canon as possible (but if I change something, well, sorry) But I can promise you that I’m trying to be as faithful as possible to the information that have been provided by Martin. English is not my first language so a big apology for the mistakes that you’ll probably find.  
> Hope you'll enojy it! :)  
> Sari

###  Part I 

##  171 AL 

## 

Daenerys Targaryen is born in a clear night of autumn within the high walls of the Red Keep.

A small, fragile baby, who arrives with a soft whimper that ends soon.

 _Her mother’s replica_ , thinks the maester, when the tiny little creature lays in his arms without a single cry from her lungs. 

Instead, the future princess sleeps with contempt and does not bother to meet the world around her.

Her father, Prince Aegon, the second in line to the Iron throne, is not present nor will he be until the next full moon, when he returns from his last outing affair.

But the only brother of Daenerys, young Daeron, the constant shadow of his mother, is the second one to greet her.

 _“You have come too late for me”_ he whispers to the baby asleep _“But not for the kingdom. You will be the healing to our wounds”_

King Baelor will announce the engagement at any time soon.

Princess Naerys, daughter of the king's hand and niece of the King, hears from the bed and smiles ruefully. _The gods just gave her to me, and they already grab her from my arms._

The family of a king would never marry for love.

 _“Are you sure that Daenerys is a good name?“_ Daeron asks his mother, who still has blood between her thighs _“I'm sure that King Baelor would prefer a little Alysanne instead of a Daenerys”_

 _“Alysanne is a name for a queen”_ for the first time in too long, Daeron sees the anger slip through the delicate features of his mother _“and my daughter will not be ever a queen”_

Always diplomatic, he sighs and tries to reconcile the subject _“You know that the kingdom requires this, the kingdom needs this marriage. It’s as necessary as it was mine. My grandfather Viserys has already sent a raven to Dorne”_

The anger disappears and instead, Princess Naerys smiles melancholy _“It would seem like the kingdom always needs something from us”_

The future king nods _“And a good ruler always puts his people first”_

###### …

###### 

A week after giving birth, Naerys could already walk. _With Daeron I almost died, and with Daenerys would seem that nothing really happened._

The wet nurse was finishing with breastfeeding the baby girl when she returned from the septon.

_“You spend too much time praying, dear cousin”_

Naerys was startled for a moment until she recognized her: wild and beautiful. Daena Targaryen had escaped again. Dressed as a maid, and shining like a queen, with her golden beauty and that enormous golden dragon of three heads hanging by her neck.

 _'You should not be here, your grace”_ whispers Naerys while giving a little bow _“King Baelor has ordered ... “_

 _“I know what my dear husband has ordered”_ Daena chuckles with disdain, and taking two steps, allows the little boy hidden behind her skirt to come out _“But you see, little Daemon wanted to meet his pretty… cousin”_

With only about two years, the bastard child of the Queen is taller than his cousin Baelor, the fourth in line to the throne. _And golden, so golden, like a true dragon, without his blood contaminated by dornish features. Who is this child’s father? A Targaryen or a Velaryon, surely, but whom?_

Naerys feels apprehensive toward the little bastard infant. _He looks just like dear Aemon, the legendary Dragonknight. He will be a warrior someday, and women and men shall fall at his feet._

 _“Good night, my Princess”_ addresses her little Daemon. He has learned well, still so young and yet so charming. Queen Daena does not let him leave her sight, and Naerys does not want to even imagine what odd ideas the queen has rooted into his little blond head.

_The throne, perhaps? Daena is the daughter of a king, sister of kings and a queen herself if only in name, she’ll probably want the same for her child, no mattering who the father is._

_“Meet your cousin, son”_ Queen Daena uses that tone of authority hidden within sweetness, which Naerys won’t dare refuse to comply. _She was born a queen and I ... I belong to the gods, I'm not made for this. If only Aegon was a little less cruel, I would live in peace, confined, serving the gods and the faith, but he wants everyone serving him, only him ..._

The uninterested face that has a child of two years old for a baby who’s drooling and barely awake is almost touching. But this bastard seems to have more Targaryen in himself that the rightful heirs to the Iron throne, and that can’t go unnoticed by anyone. _It is dangerous._

Baelor, with the dark complexion of his mother the Dornish Princess Myriah, is strong, but too dark. And Aerys, gold, pale, so delicate and sickly that the maesters do not believe that he will live long.

_Sweet mother, he looks like him, the same purple eyes and the matching strength of little Aemon, who used to play with me in the corridors filled with dragon skulls. I was his princess and he my knight. He promised to always protect me, but he left me alone with Aegon and chose a white armor instead…_

Nostalgia is the worst enemy of Naerys Targaryen.

_“As it pleases your grace”_

The truth is that Naerys would never object to anything or anyone, not even in the sake of her own daughter, so, she steps aside.

###### ...

###### 

171 

Two months later, King Baelor, the first of his name and the ninth Targaryen king, dies.

Everyone suspects, and in quiet whispers they scream: The hand of the king, his uncle Viserys, poisoned him.

But Naerys knows best: her father can be a harsh and meticulous politician, but he truly loves his family and he would not poison his nephew, even if he, by no means, considered him worthy to be ever called King.

She dresses in black, immaculate, hiding each single hair, and prays ... in the morning, during all afternoon and every nightfall.

The silent sisters welcome her in the rituals, the High Septon warmly embraces her as a part of the ceremonies, and although his father, now King Viserys, watches her with cold eyes, he does not stop her. _He forced me to marry Aegon, and he lets him sire his bastards, and allows him to be my shame and undone; the minimal justice is to indulgence me to my prayers. That's all I want to do, to pray._

Daena, the widowed queen and the never true queen, dresses in white. She does not bother to hide the vast smile on her face.

And the three princesses in the tower are set free. _From the maidenvault, but not from my father._ Viserys Targaryen has already arranged a marriage for young Elaena with a nephew of Lord Arryn and Rhaena will be next, unless she can escape to become a septa. _We should escape together, once taken the habit no one could take it away, not even my father or Aegon, or anyone._ Of the three maids, is beautiful Rhaena the only one who cries for her brother.

 _“My condolences for the loss of our uncle”_ voices Myriah Martell ... no, Myriah Targaryen. Her speech is sweet and sincere. _My son loves her so, and she’s with child again._

_“Thank you, daughter”_

Little Baelor, named after the King who has passed away and that Daeron admired for so many years, shows the most solemn face that such a little child can truly display.

_“Grandpa says that I should look dignify”_

But her grandson does not refer to his grandfather Aegon, but to his great-grandfather Viserys. For Aegon has never cared about the image projected by the royal family.

 _“King Viserys”_ corrects him fondly his father Daeron _“He is now your king, our king, and you should address him with the respect that is required”_

The little boy with dark hair and blue eyes nods. _He is strong, and he will be wise as his father, but he will never be a full Targaryen. His blood is no longer pure._ Naerys has a good heart, but she was raised as a Targaryen.

_Fire and blood, are our words._

_But what blood? It’s now mixed with the Dornish, no longer untainted. What fire? There are no more dragons sailing the skies._

What prevents the large houses to rebel against us and deprive us of all?

 _Nothing,_ seems to whisper Daeron at her ear.

 _Absolutely nothing._  
...

-Sari :)


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is about Daenerys, but I could not resist writing about Rhaena. She seems to me a very peculiar Targaryen. Specially for a woman.  
> I hope that it won’t be so annoying.  
> :)

###  Part II 

172 AL 

King Viserys dies in less than a year of his ruling. 

They write it in the history books: he safeguarded the chests of gold while his brother Aegon was dealing with nightmares of his mother devoured by monsters of fire. He kept a kingdom that crumbled at the expense of Daeron and his wars. He prevented the beginning of civil wars by the great nobles that were embarrassed by a saintly king. 

It’s not poison, or even a decent conspiracy. 

The second of his name, son of Princess Rhaenyra, and tenth king Targaryen. 

Viserys dies peacefully in his sleep.

_How could he sleep forever, knowing that he left his monstrous son on the Iron Throne?_

There are enough Targaryens that could change the sad story that will be written under the mandate of the new king. But none of them do something, no one will. 

They will stay still and silent, with their heads bowed. 

_'Our cousin is now a king’_ whispers Daena with that beautiful secret smile of hers. As if she knew something that nobody else knew.

 _‘And we continue to be low chess pieces, and worse, women’_ Elaena is very observant, the fact that Aegon is now the king doesn’t pleasure her too much _‘I will marry whoever I have to marry, before than staying in this city under his rule’_

 _'You're a princess, daughter and sister of kings, a dragon’_ Daena almost spits in her sister’s eyes _‘There is nothing and no one whom you should fear. Instead, you ought to be betrothed to a son of Daeron and not an unworthy Andal’_

_‘So you'd rather have me promised to a three year old boy?’_

Daena does not respond.

At the corner of the room, Rhaena seems a modest tapestry that no one bothers to toss. She sews, and listens. 

_Uncle Viserys promised me to a four year old Baratheon. But he did it for the sake of my character and not by cruelty. And now he is gone, and there is not a good and noble king on the Iron Throne anymore._

But nobody ever asks Rhaena what she ponders.

 _'We could run away, the three of us together’_ is Elaena, and no Daena, who proposes the only thing that all three of them have been fantasizing for years _‘We will ask Alyn to get us a ship that sails to the free cities, and then ... ‘_

 _‘And then, what is next? You will be with the man you love, a third Velaryon son that will never inherit anything and Rhaena could sew and pray all day. But what about me?’_ To Daena is obvious that it is not the most joyfully idea _‘What could possibly be there for me?’_

For the first time, Rhaena gives the impression to come alive.

 _‘You could raise Daemon far away from this place’_ Her voice sounds smooth and firm, a melodious whisper as if in reality she was accustomed to speak out loud so very often _‘Imagine it, Daena, he could be free to be whoever he wanted to be, and no one would ever call him a bastard’_

That accomplishes to infuriate her older sister straight more.

 _‘He is not a bastard’_ she grinds her teeth with fury.

Rhaena is again forgotten.

 _‘For such bravery, you are so silly sometimes’_ Elaena interrupts her sister’s rage _‘Do not fool yourself, and neither deceive your son. He is a bastard, and he will remain so. In the free cities he may become more than that, there may be a future in there that he can forge for himself’_

 _‘He already has a future in here’_ there is nothing or no one that will convince her otherwise.

_'Then, I am sorry for him, and I feel sorry for you’_

Daena begins to storm away, with the fury of red staining her lovely features _‘Do not even delusion about it, Elaena’_ but of course she turns around, with her purple eyes almost as black as night, digging into her little sister's face _‘You will not leave this place, is that understood? Or else, the king will know that it was all Alyn’s idea, and while you're happily walking from side to side of every free land, our cousin will lose his head on your behalf’_

Rhaena stops her needlework. 

_Like Aegon, Daena is cruel. Cruel to herself by allowing been ruined by a man. Cruel to her own son, for denying him the opportunity to be truly unrestricted and free. And cruel to our own little sister, whose only sin was to give her heart to a man who can never be with her._

But nobody asks Rhaena what she ponders.

And she does not bother to separate her sealed lips.

 _‘You got that true, Daena, I will not run. Ever’_ Elaena is the smallest, but she rises more regal than any _‘Unlike you and our father, I do not live with ghosts or flee from them’_

Both look at each other for a moment, aware of the gap that was there and now seems to grow larger. 

Be released from the maidenvault has not only separated them physically.

Daena ends her triumphant exit. 

The three pretty sisters playing together and conspiring together never again do so. 

It's the last time they speak again.

###### …

That night, while sleeping next to Elaena, Rhaena Targaryen doesn’t fall asleep. 

_Run away._

The words tastes sweet and dangerous. 

_Run away..._

And suddenly, in her awake dreams, she imagines her life if she stays at the expense of a cruel king and a kingdom just as cruel.

A cousin of lascivious eyes and without anyone who will dare to stop him. 

_Would he rape me and then marry me off to some lesser lord? Would they marry me to an old man with cold cruel eyes?_

_He could die._ Aegon may not last many years. As with King Viserys, no one ever expects a sudden natural death, even those that seem to anticipate everything. _Are the gods, who decide and provide, who grant and grab away with the same ferocity._

_What if the gods really want me for their service? Should I stay still and wait for their command? Or should I go to look it for myself?_

It is that same night, after dreaming of King Aegon raping her and her sisters, with fire and screams around, dragons and blood devouring every living soul, that Rhaena truly believes that she receives her reply.

###### … 

Taking advantage of the confusion that only the premature death of a new king can create, Rhaena escapes from the Red Keep to the heart of the faith: the Starry Septon in Oldtown. 

It is not difficult to become a septa. 

She does not have to fool anyone, nor hurt a single soul in the process. 

She doesn't have to lie too much. 

She dresses in an old gown which Daena used to wear for disguise herself when she wanted to flee the maidenvault. 

No one notices her absence in the morning. 

_She must be praying as always,_ thinks Elaena. And Daena doesn’t even notice. 

_They thought that sweet Rhaena who only knows how to pray and embroil dresses with gold would not be capable of something as rebellious and selfish. And maybe I am selfish._

They underestimated her: her sisters, the guards and the new king. 

_I saw him observing me with dilated pupils and that deceptive smile which makes me so terrified._

Once the damage is done, the royal family can’t repair it. 

Daeron would not dare to remove her from the Septon, offending the faith and the gods. King Aegon is too busy with his new lover to even repair in the matter. 

Daena laughs and calls her defiant. Elaena believes her sagacious. 

Rhaena Targaryen becomes the first Targaryen who resigns to be a Targaryen and becomes what she always wanted to be: a septa. 

_The gods provide, grant and grab away. I'm theirs._

…  



	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a couple of years forward, but not too many. I’ll clarify which ages I’m using in this chapter:  
> Baelor and Daemon: 6 years old.  
> Aerys: 5 years old.  
> Aegor and Daenerys: 4 years old.  
> Aelinor: 2 years old.  
> Maekar and Brynden: they are about to be born.  
> ...

###  Part III 

###  ... 

...

175 AL 

.  
 _'Sometimes I wish mom would love more than she loves her gods’_

Little princess Daenerys does not usually talk much with anyone. 

Her mom is always in the septon praying or somewhere in the castle crying softly. Since uncle Aemon died she hasn’t smiled again.

Her dad, the King, has no time for a fragile and silly girl. Mylessa Blackwood is more entertaining, with her huge black eyes, and she’s round and pregnant, which always fills him with a never lasting interest and a passenger pride.

Therefore, without parenting figures present at the moment, the princess always goes to her older brother. 

Daeron is kind, invariably warm and smiling, and even when he’s busy reigning as dad drinks and eats, when she knocks at his door, he stops everything and listens to her attentively. 

Daenerys idolizes and loves Daeron as nobody else but him.

_‘Queen Naerys loves you dearly’_ he patiently replies to the little princess.

_'But no more than she loves the gods’_ she claims _‘She’s always with them and never with me’_ In spite of having a pleasant nature, Daenerys is still just a young four year old child _‘I hate them, mom should be mine, not theirs’_

Daeron affable smiles her and he leaves aside the long parchment from Dorne that had arrived a few hours ago _‘The gods own everything and everyone, including you and including me, you should not disrespect them’_ he subtlety reproofs her _‘Have not your septa taught you that?’_

_‘Yes, but ...’_ mortified, knowing how much her brother Daeron respects the faith and the gods, she looks down.

_‘Why don’t you play with little Aelinor instead?’_ But Daeron never scolds her openly, and he forgives her too easily and she yields too easily as well.

_‘Because she is too small’_ Daenerys wrinkles her nose , forgetting all about the previous matter _‘She only weeps and weeps’_

Prince Daeron sighs _‘Then, play with Baelor or Aerys, none of them will oppose’_

_'But they are boys, my septa has told me that I should not play with the boys’_ she reasons _‘She says that I must sew and pray and read my lessons, and learn to be a lady’_

Daenerys does not like particularly much her new septa, who has cold and bony fingers, and whose breath always smells like sweet spices. 

Daeron winks at her conspiratorially _‘If you don’t tell her'_ he whispers _‘Neither I will’_

An immense smile is drawn on the face of the little princess.

_'You’re the best brother of them all'_

Daenerys definitely loves her brother Daeron more than anyone in the world.  
...  
...

The next day, the septa indicated that the princess should be dress with breeches of the finest quality and she tied her hair into a high bun. _If you plan to be running like a wilding princess, at least you should not to look like one,_ she had told her with that raspy voice of hers. 

But Daenerys is not the kind of girl who likes to be running and jumping or exploring. 

She hates riding her pony, and she prefers to walk quietly through the forest of the gods. 

She does not like sewing but she is not particularly related to read.

And of course, wanting to learn to fight as boys learn with their wooden swords is not within her plans. 

_‘I’m only going to play with Baelor and Aerys’_

But playing at exactly _what_ , she’s not very sure.

...  
...

_‘I will be a knight, and I will rescue you’_ Baelor is tall, and he has beautiful blue eyes and very good ideas. 

_‘Yes!’_ the idea seems brilliant _‘But you’ll rescue me from whom? ‘_

The little prince of six years old meditates carefully about it _‘From an evil sorcerer, of course’_

The eyes of princess Daenerys sparkle with anticipation. She has never been rescued before.

_‘Who is going to be the evil sorcerer?’_

Baelor ponders again for a moment _‘It could be Aerys, but he preferred to go with the master to ask him for another book to read’_

For a moment, the little princess feels desolated _‘You can’t rescue me if there is no one evil who kidnaps me’_

It sounds pretty logical. And devastating. 

But Baelor always comes up with new ideas _'I know who can play with us!’_

The hope is renewed for princess Daenerys _‘Yes! Who? ‘_

Her nephew, almost more of a cousin, who doesn’t seem to resemble physically at all to his father Daeron, smiles her with that same warm smile that results so familiar for Daenerys. 

_‘Follow me’_  
...  
...

Daenerys believes that she recognizes the boy, even taller than Baelor and with golden hair that it’s so pretty.

_Bastard_ had whispered one of the ladies in waiting of Princess Myriah, _a bastard living at court._ Princess Myriah had silenced her immediately. 

The training stops. Despite being a mere child, Baelor is the third heir in the line of succession and everyone recognized him straightaway.

_‘Daemon, would you like to play with us? ‘_

_Yes, his name is Daemon. Princess Daena’s son. He has a lovely name._

The boy turns completely and Daenerys now watches him closely, and truly believes that he is the most beautiful boy that she has ever seen. 

_'Sure'_ he responds serenely though, for his young size, he’s holding a huge wooden sword in his hand. 

He walks away from the training yard, with many looks of disdain and others not so hostile following him. 

He comes over and greets Baelor with a small bow _‘What do we play?’_

_‘Daenerys will be the princess’_ he explains him _'I will free her and you will be the evil sorcerer’_

It is only then that little Daemon realizes that she is there. 

Daenerys feels how her cheeks get uncomfortably hot.

_‘Princess’_ he articulates to her, giving her a small bow _‘It will be my pleasure to kidnap you’_

The princess’s eyes open wide like an enormous bowl, and her cheeks are no longer hot but they burn rather like fiery coals. 

_‘I ... do…’_

_‘Great!’_ Baelor rescues her inadvertently _‘We will fight to death!’_

Both children smile at each other with affection. They have been game’s friends for long and they share the same maester of weapons. 

Daenerys is excited and so very nervous.  
...  
...

By the fourth time she has been rescued, Daenerys does not feel so flustered about Daemon anymore, and the excitement of a fight to the death for her (yes, her!) it’s too exciting to even think about something else. 

Baelor is fast and agile. 

But Daemon is very strong. 

_‘Why are you so good with the sword?’_ she asks him.

Despite being the evil sorcerer, Daemon has already won twice.

_'My mom says that I should be the strongest of them all’_

Daenerys does not find much sense to that _‘Why?’_

_‘Because I'm a bastard’_ the face of princess Daena’s son darkens for an instant _‘And the bastards have to learn to defend themselves faster’_

_Bastard._ The word sounds so ugly. Daenerys definitely doesn’t like it. 

_‘If someone dares to bother you’_ she assures him feeling brave and a truthfully warrior princess _'we'll defend you’_

Baelor turns to her and immediately agrees _‘Yes, you are our cousin, we will protect you’_ he declares proudly. 

Daemon smiles them _‘Thank you’_ however it's not a complete smile _‘But I have to know how to defend myself’_

Pincess Daenerys is suddenly overwhelmed by a great sadness, of the long type but not very deep. _We will protect him and Daeron will protect him, I will ask him to take care of him as he takes care of Baelor, Aelinor, Aerys and me._

Although tomorrow, being only a girl of four years old, she will forget easily.

_‘Let's play again!’_ shouts Daemon. 

Daenerys and Baelor laugh, shouting with joy, and they forget just as easy. 

Because as children, the only important thing is to play. 

And Daenerys has never been rescued before.  
...  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


End file.
